tagLoving WivesEight Days a Week

Eight Days a Week

byHarddaysknight©

My wife, Theresa, worked for a local dental clinic. She had Wednesdays and Sundays off. Over the years I had moved up the ladder at my company and had recently achieved the position of vice president. I couldn't help but notice that it seemed like the higher I rose and the better my title; the less I actually had to do.

I had returned to the office from lunch and realized I really didn't have much of anything on my desk. I had a good team under me and I trusted them enough to delegate the work I was responsible for having done. It wasn't rocket science. Just hire the right people and pay them enough to keep them loyal.

As I paced across the office for the hundredth time, it occurred to me that it was Wednesday and Thersa should be home. Why be a vice president if I couldn't leave a little early from time to time? I told my secretary I was leaving and to call me on my cell if I was needed. I jumped in my SUV and headed home. As I drove I thought about how surprised Theresa would be to see me. In my 19 years with the company, I hadn't come home early more than three times, and then it was because I was so ill I could barely stand.

As I approached our house I noticed a strange car in the driveway. As I pulled in behind it I gave it another glance. It was one of those ridiculous, in my opinion, Mini Coopers. Theresa had expressed more than a passing interest in them, but I would rather be seen in one of those new VW bugs, and I hate them. I casually wondered who was visiting as I opened the front door and listened to determine which room Theresa and the visitor occupied. I heard nothing.

As I moved through the downstairs, I detected slight sounds from the upstairs bedroom area. I began to get a bad feeling as I ascended the stairs as quietly as I could. I even remembered to step over the fifth tread, which always squeaked. It became obvious the sounds were coming from the master bedroom, and it wasn't me making the sounds! In my house, that is a real problem.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar and I crept closer and peeked into the room. What I saw immediately became etched into my brain forever. I could see a medium sized guy's backside. He was totally naked. He was obviously getting a serious piece of ass. I could make out Theresa's legs wrapped around his waist with her ankles locked together. With the door only opened a crack, I could not see any more, nor did I have to see more! I pulled back and leaned against the wall, fearing I was going to either upchuck my lunch or feint dead away. As I tried to steady myself, the bastard slamming my wife started talking.

"You like my big cock, don't you slut?" he demanded. "Hubby doesn't fuck you this well, does he, slut? After I fill your nasty pussy, you'll clean my cock and suck it hard again, won't you, whore?"

Theresa would never allow that sort of speech, especially directed toward her. That much I knew. Then I heard her moan her agreement! How could the woman I knew so well do this to me? In my house? In my marital bed? With some shit-mouthed ass-wipe loser? My first instinct was to rush in and beat the shit out of the guy and then slap the hell out of Theresa.

My anger scared me. I had always been able to keep my emotions in check enough to avoid legal problems. This was one time when I was willing to face the music. Then I considered my 2 kids and my job. When I tossed her cheating ass out on the street, she would want half of everything. If I wound up in prison, I would surely lose my job and she would have everything! Somehow my brain started to function and I realized I could always find the prick and kill him and Theresa wasn't going anyplace if she thought I didn't know her dirty damn secret.

I felt I had two options. I could accept Theresa's unfaithfulness and hope it would eventually end, or I could exact some sort of vengeance. The proper choice has been debated since Adam and Eve, but I had no moral dilemma making mine. I needed time to plan. I left the house as quietly as I had entered, copied the fucker's plate number, and got back in my car. Then I did what any normal guy would do when concentration and clear thinking were tantamount. I drove to a local watering hole.

Everything is much clearer and answers are so much more obvious in direct proportion to the number of beers I drink. I had four beers in the first hour and oddly, they didn't help, so I had a few more. It was the strangest thing. I didn't even get drunk. I just got mad. Then I got morose. Then I felt totally, completely alone.

As I sat there thinking about Theresa, I realized she had come to infiltrate every part of my being. She had been the thing that had made me complete. I couldn't blow my nose or wipe my ass without thinking how she would want me to do it. I succeeded at work largely because she had always pushed, prodded, and encouraged me to want better and to feel I could do better. She had made me feel confident and equal to any man.

The bitch had been so sneaky about it! I never actually realized she had been making me dependent on her. She was like a drug. I had always told myself I could quit any time, cold turkey. The truth was; I was addicted... to a goddamn cheating whore! Could I get a patch or something to help me kick the habit? Was there a half-way house I could use? There was probably some support group someplace where I could stand up, tell my name, and then admit I was addicted to a slut. That scenario was way too embarrassing and I quickly dismissed the thought.

I sat there and tried to think of a solution. It had to be one where the guy fucking Theresa died after his balls were crushed and then ripped from his body. Theresa had to somehow be made to feel that losing me was a bad thing. I could never physically hurt her in any way. I knew that with a certainty that prevented any contemplation of such an act. Even after what I had seen, I realized I would walk straight into hell to save her from harm.

That was the part that pissed me off so much. She had me! She had insidiously taken control of my soul. Maybe she was some sort of witch or something. I was bound more surely than if there were chains attached to my arms and legs. How the hell had it happened? Why hadn't I seen some warning signs that my will was no longer my own? Shit! I didn't even see her affair coming. I was as happy as a pig in shit, and I thought she was, too.

It became obvious that the revenge angle was not going to be simple. She could not have any real feelings for me to do this. If I killed myself she would laugh all the way to the bank. I had no real hold on her, so I was unable to make her suffer.

That was when the beer finally kicked in and clarity flowed into my brain and dissipated the fog. Revenge didn't have to be immediate to be enjoyed. Quite the opposite! It would be so much sweeter. That was when the single dumbest plan ever devised for vengeance was born. I started grinning as I realized that the brilliance of my plan was the very simplicity of it.

I decided to become the perfect husband, friend, lover, and partner. I was going to get a death grip on her soul, just like the one she had on mine. She would need and depend on me so much; it would actually hurt her when I tossed her cheating ass to the curb. I realized it wasn't the conventional wisdom for revenge on a cheating whore wife, but maybe no one ever thought of it before. I would probably be able to write a self-help book and make a fortune after I was finished.

Feeling rejuvenated, I paid my tab and headed for the door. Beer was my friend and it had come through for me again! Some jackass had placed a table right where I was trying to walk and I went ass over tin cup. After I picked myself up and assured the concerned bartender I was fine, I again headed out.

My mental clarity didn't extend to my extremities, which had lost most of their feeling. The drive home was long and difficult. I got lost once in the two block stretch from the bar to the house, but I eventually sauntered into the house, ready to begin my devious plan.

"Joe, are you okay?" asked Theresa.

"I am quite well, thank-you, Darling. Why do you ask?" I smoothly countered.

"Oh, there a couple things, Sweetheart," smiled Theresa. "Your shirt is ripped and the ass of your pants is filthy, there is a bruise on your cheek, you are three hours late, and you are all shit-faced."

Damn, this was going to be harder than I thought! She was good, very good. My mind raced as I thought of ways to be the perfect husband.

"Would you like me to take out the garbage, Sweetie?" I asked.

Theresa gave me an unfathomable look.

"Would you rather we go to the mall and shop for some new outfits for you?"

She began to stare at me like I had three heads.

"How about we try to get some tickets for the ballet?" I quickly added. I knew she loved that.

"How hard did you bang your head, Joe? Sit down here and let me look at that bruise," Theresa insisted.

Shit! That was how she had taken control of me in the first place, being all concerned and caring. I slumped into the chair.

Theresa went to the sink and wet a cloth and wiped my face as she examined me closely. Her touch still gave me goose bumps. Her face had a few lines, but I realized she was more beautiful than the day I married her, and she was really hot then. She had gained a few pounds, but it only added to her feminine charm.

I felt my cock stir as I watched her move around me, checking my scalp and face. I reached out and ran my hand over her round ass. Had it always been so firm and tight? Why hadn't I noticed sooner just how sweet it was? My cock began to throb.

"I learned years ago that if a man gets banged on the head and develops a hard-on, called a priapism, or something like that, he likely has brain damage," suggested Theresa. "Let me see if you have a woody, Joe."

She slid her hands down into my pants and found a raging erection. Quickly, Theresa pulled her hand back and reached for the phone.

"I am going to call the ambulance, Joe. I think you may have a head injury. You are very hard down there and it worries me," she admitted.

My plan was fucked up already! Going to the hospital because of a hard-on seemed really stupid! I stood and took the phone from her hand. I remembered how she had her legs wrapped around some dude earlier that day and my plan dissolved. The beer was wearing off and the anger was returning.

"I thought a little slut like you would think of something better to do with a hard cock," I snickered.

"What did you say?" asked a stunned Theresa. "What did you call me?"

I am six foot and weigh in at 185 while Theresa is two inches over five feet and never gets up 120 pounds. I just picked her up and headed upstairs to the bedroom.

"Joe, you aren't well! We need to get you to a doctor," she pleaded. "Don't mistake an erection for being horny!"

I had to hand it to her. Over the years, she had given me some strange reasons for not having sex, but this one took the cake! I dropped her on the very bed on which she had played 'hide the wiener" without me a few hours earlier that day. It occurred to me she was probably worried. She knew I would find tell-tale signs of recent sexual activity on her body.

She was wearing a baggy shirt and loose fitting shorts and I just reached down and pulled the shirt over her head before she guessed my intention.

"Joe! You are hurt and need attention," she again pleaded.

"I'll show you what needs attention!" I rasped out.

I climbed on the bed and started sucking and feasting on her tits. As I bathed them with my lips and tongue, I searched for any marks, bites, or bruises. I couldn't find any but I kept looking and sucking. Theresa had stopped complaining and was making strange little noises. I knew that even if her tits were unmarked, her pussy would be puffy and probably have some cum still in it.

I popped the snap off her waistband, yanked her zipper down and pulled her shorts off. It seemed like she lifted her ass to make it easier. She must have realized they were coming off one way or the other and decided not to struggle. Her panties slid off with her shorts. I moved in close to find the proof.

I spread her legs and put my face close to her pussy. I looked and sniffed. It appeared normal. In fact she smelled pretty good. Not satisfied, I tasted her with my tongue. I knew what my sperm smelled like and thought I might discover some with just a little lick. I am not a wimp that eats other guys sperm from his wife's pussy! Again, I found nothing unusual except Theresa seemed pretty wet. I licked again. Then I ran my tongue up and down her slit. If it was there, I would find it. Now I could actually feel heat steaming into my face from her twat, but no unusual tastes. I slid my tongue inside her. Theresa let out a low moan. I spread her open with a thumb and finger and looked as I licked.

This woman was clever! I had to give her that. I found no trace of the guy that was slipping her the salami a few hours ago, but there was no soapy, 'just-washed' taste either. I felt the need to pursue my investigation, I pushed my tongue in as far as I could and really swished it around. I felt her hands clutch my hair and pull me in deeper. Then it came to me, almost literally! If I made her cum, she would push out any sperm deposited deep in her canal and I would have my proof!

To that end, I really began to work on her pussy. I sucked her clit and licked her from top to bottom and back up. I ran my tongue around her ass and then tickled her clit again. I wasn't ready for what happened next. Theresa groaned and tensed. Then her fluids actually squirted into my face and mouth. That had never happened before and as I cleaned her up with my tongue, I wondered if that was a result of her lover taking her to new sexual heights. Had he been getting the job done better than I had? I felt anger rebuilding.

I rose up and tore off my clothes as fast as possible. Theresa was still moaning and fluids were leaking from her cunt, but I saw no signs of sperm. Shit! The guy must have used a condom.

I moved up by Theresa's head and pointed my cock at her mouth. To my surprise she practically gobbled it up! Did her lover make her suck his cock? Was that why she was so hot and willing?

"Suck that cock, you little slut!" I hissed. "Show me what a nasty little bitch you are."

I had never dared talk to Theresa like that before, but it seemed to make her go berserk. She swallowed my entire shaft. Then she licked it and sucked on each of my balls. Her eyes were on me every second as she lavished oral attention to my throbbing cock. It was the damn sexiest thing I had ever seen and I soon exploded. The first round hit her in the forehead and hair as she was licking down my shaft. As soon as she realized what was happening, she slurped my dick head back into her mouth and sucked like a starving baby. I never came so hard or abundantly in my life. Theresa never let up on my cock. I never really got soft!

Within a minute it was at full staff and I knew where I wanted it next. I flipped Theresa over, pulled her ass up and drove my cock as far into her wet, hot hole as I could. This time she let out what I felt was a scream as she convulsed around my cock. I never let up to give her time to come back down. I held her wonderful ass in my hands and I fucked her harder than I ever had before. Her orgasms were nonstop and I refused to show any mercy.

By the time my balls started their warning of an upcoming deposit, Theresa was babbling and making weird sounds. I held her ass up and gave her my absolute best shot, ever. I never felt an orgasm as intense as that one. I held her on my cock till it wilted completely and began to slide out. Only then did I release her.

I was shocked when my wife of 22 years crawled around and sucked my limp cock into her mouth. When she was satisfied it was completely clean, she let it slip from her lips. Then she climbed up my torso and wrapped her arms around me.

"Joe, I don't know what happened today, but you were fantastic! That was the best you have ever fucked me, Baby. Those names you called me and your intensity made me so hot, I had to do everything I could to please you, like the slut you made me," she grinned.

Then she kissed me and I held her in my arms and wondered how I could ever live without her. Then I saw the proof I had been searching for! In the corner were the sheets that had been on the bed when that shithead was fucking her. I set my trap.

"Darling, why are there dirty linens on the floor?" I asked as calmly as I could.

"I know you will be angry when I tell you, Sweetheart," warned Theresa. "Promise me you won't go out and try to beat the shit out of the guy!"

My blood was starting to boil again. Promise not to kill the piece of shit that fucked her brains out? Hardly.

"What 'guy' honey?" I cooed. I was proud of my cool demeanor, even after the effects of the beer had disappeared.

"Promise?" Theresa insisted

I crossed my fingers behind my back as I answered, "Okay, you win. I promise." I was going to kill the fucker!

"Remember I told you last week that I had to go to a seminar today on properly filling out insurance forms at work?" asked Theresa.

She told me that?

"I also made the mistake of telling Louise that I would be gone all day. You know she is having some marital problems? When I came home she was in our bed, drunk as a monkey, fucking some asshole she picked up at a bar," Theresa continued. "She brought him here so Jack wouldn't catch her.

My mind reeled. It wasn't Theresa getting fucked! It was her stupid whore sister. I remembered her telling me she had to go to some seminar. I just never paid much attention. Theresa still loved me and wasn't a slut. Then I remembered calling her one! She must have felt it was just sex talk and nothing personal. I had dodged a bullet!

"I was furious and tossed their asses out. I don't know the guy's name. So don't ask. He isn't worth your time or getting in trouble over," Theresa assured me as she stroked my cheek. "Are you upset?"

I was delirious with joy! A huge burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I grabbed Theresa and kissed her hard. My heart was bursting.

"You can't be responsible for every dumb trick your sister pulls, Sweetheart. I love you so much!" I murmured into Theresa's ear.

Then I heard the words that brought me back to earth and almost ruined my night.

"I love you too, Darling. I am going to go online and order the tickets for the ballet right now!"

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by Anonymous

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by Tootight108/01/14

good story

just a thought, but it really was her. people do lie

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by fanfare07/29/14

Tippy-toes?

Pssst! Hey Buddy, yah want the hottest sex around? Sure yah do, yah look like a real stud. Not like all these here annoyingmousie teeny-weenie tweeners that infest this site.

Get thee to the Metropolitanmore...

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by Tw0Cr0ws05/11/14

well if

If he had been smarter then he could have thrown a fit about the sister and got out of going to the ballet.

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by Tim41305/11/14

Very cleaver.

When I finally realized it had to be another woman, I was ready for the ending. But I forgot about the ballet tickets. Priceless!

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by krosis66602/24/14

Tickets to the ballet?

Poor bastard would be better off if his wife WAS cheating!

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